


Angel

by TwinKats



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Genderqueer Characters, M/M, Other, Queer Characters, ftm angeal, ftm cloud, request, secret santa gift, tansgender characters, transgender Angeal, transgender Cloud
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:39:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinKats/pseuds/TwinKats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I cut my hair. I took the knife you gave me when I was eight and sheared it right off. I couldn’t do it anymore, have it long like Mother wanted. It just looked horrible. Not that it looks much better now, though. It’s a mess, uneven and terrible. You’d hate it. I like it though and that’s what matters.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>A look through the FF7 compilation through Angeal's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> My friend CameoAmalthea was pulled in as a secret santa for someone on tumblr. She read through the request and contacted me to request my services to write something for her. The request called for transgender ftm Angeal, and potential transgender ftm Cloud. Among my friends I've become known as 'Angeal' because apparently I'm a lot like his character? Incidentally I'm actually ftm transgender. So, I agreed to do this thing. It's only partially done because I wasn't given the full information until Christmas Eve, but it'll be worked on. I hope the gifted likes it?

**i.**

Angeal stared into the mirror, lips curled down into a thoughtful frown. A hand, calloused from climbing trees and playing with wooden swords, ran down a pre-pubescent chest; teeth dug into Angeal’s bottom lip in contemplation, towel clasped in one hand, pressed against the kitchen counter. Angeal thought on the lessons of biology; Mother had gone over puberty again not too long ago, despite having covered the topic with Angeal a few years back.

Puberty, she said, was a time of change for the body. Angeal knew this. Angeal knew how girls grew breasts and began a monthly cycle. Angeal knew how men grew facial hair, chest hair, how their voices changed. Perhaps it was because Angeal was now beginning the stages of puberty and not a child anymore that it meant something different, something Angeal hadn’t thought about before really.

Angeal looked in the mirror, starred, and tried to imagine the changes that were to come. Angeal tried to see the curves, the shapes, but couldn’t. The idea of having round mounds sit on the chest seemed uncomfortable, strange, and somehow wrong. It was wrong like being called a girl was wrong, or being told that swords were for someone else. Angeal pressed lips together, thought of the changes, Mother, and Genesis. Angeal wondered how they would change as Angeal changed. How would they act now?

Would Genesis start treating Angeal like a girl? He’d tried that once, Angeal remembered, during their first play date. Angeal punched him in the face and insisted on being called a tom _boy_ , because to Angeal that was _right_. Angeal wasn’t a girl. Angeal could play with swords just as good as the boys. Angeal could climb trees better than Genesis, could roughhouse better than some of the other village boys. Angeal wasn’t a _girl_.

But Angeal wasn’t a _boy_ either. Not really. Angeal sighed.

Breasts still would look wrong.

** ii. **

“I want to go to Midgar.”

Angeal glanced over at Genesis, legs dangling from the branch of the Banora White as she leaned against the trunk, head cocked to the side.

“Why?” Angeal questioned, and then shifted until one leg was resting on the branch and her back against the trunk. “What’s in Midgar?”

Genesis scowled, sitting on a branch lower. His hands curled around it tightly and he glanced up at Angeal. His look said it all and Angeal had to look away. For a moment she’d forgotten what the Rhapsados’ were like. When out here, in the rows of dumbapple trees with Genesis, she forgot a lot of things. Genesis looked back down at the ground and the branch beneath his fingers creaked ominously.

Angeal rolled her eyes and plucked an apple. She twirled it in her fingers for a moment and then tossed it down to Genesis.

“What are we going to do in Midgar?” she asked.

Genesis smirked and tossed the apple up and down. He glanced back up. “We’re going to do what our parents never wanted us to do. We’ll join Shinra.”

** iii. **

_ Gen, _

_ Hey. I know you’re still not speaking to me. I’ve apologized enough about it all. I don’t know what more you want me to say? I tried to leave, but Mother had the door jammed shut. I’ve told you this in each letter, but I guess you don’t care. _

_ Your parents are insufferable. Your dad was elected Mayor once more and he’s been worse since you left. Lady Rhapsodos hasn’t been seen outside in months now. Oh and those bullies? You remember the ones, Joan and John and Karl? I had to teach them a lesson again. They don’t seem to learn very well. _

_ I guess I’ll just end this here. I’m not even sure if you read these anymore. I miss you, Gen. I swear I’ll get there soon. I’ve already started saving. I’ve hidden it in the dumbapple forest on your property. _

_ Angeal _

**.**

_ Gen, _

_ I cut my hair. I took the knife you gave me when I was eight and sheared it right off. I couldn’t do it anymore, have it long like Mother wanted. It just looked horrible. Not that it looks much better now, though. It’s a mess, uneven and terrible. You’d hate it. I like it though and that’s what matters. _

_ You’re still not speaking to me. I guess that’s okay. My savings are steadily growing. If things keep up, I’ll be there in a year and we can talk this out in person. You can’t ignore me if I’m there. _

_ Angeal _

**. **

_ Gen, _

_ It’s been a year. Today I turned twelve. I’m certain you remember, and you’re probably reading this and scoffing. I’d hoped to get a letter, at least one since you left, and I know you’re upset. You can hold a grudge for years and be vindictive and petty and-- _

_ Please write back. _

_ I can’t do this alone. _

_ Angeal _

**. **

_ Gen, _

_ You’re still not talking, and you’re probably honestly just throwing these away, but fine. My savings were stolen. Most of the money I’d built up, almost had enough to follow after you, are gone. The dumbapple forest nearly burned down, too. I won’t say your parents didn’t deserve it, but it’s a waste of a good apple. _

_ We still haven’t shared one of those either. Not since we were, what, nine? We’ll share one when I get to Midgar. I’ll grab several off of the tree in your front yard like I used to and take them with me. _

_ I have to start all over, but it’s fine. Write me. _

_ Angeal _

**. **

_ Gen, _

_ What the **fuck** took you so long to send me a simple letter? You **ass**. I spent a **year** agonising and you tell me you were busy with **basic?** At least think up a better lie if you’re going to lie to me at all! I know you were pissed at me but at least you could have ranted over a letter if nothing else! _

_ No, I don’t have a PHS. Why do you think I’d be given a PHS? What the hell have you gotten up to? _

_ My savings are tumbling along, mishap or not. I’ve changed their location. I won’t write it down this time. I **will** get to Midgar. _

_ Angeal _

**.**

_ Gen, _

~~_ What do you mean you met **Sephiroth?** How could you have even met him? He’s like a legend. Are you sure it was really him? I mean maybe there’s another long haired guy wandering around Shinra? _ ~~

_ You met **Sephiroth?** He actually **talked** to you? What the hell have you been doing at Shinra to get to met him? Seriously, Gen, you’re keeping something back. I know you, you Minerva bedamned pyromaniac. Why won’t you actually **talk** to me anymore? _

_ You know what? I’ll just ask you in person. I’ve finally gotten enough together to get to Midgar and join you. It took a while longer than I anticipated, but I should be there within a week of you getting this. Just. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t until I’m there. Please? _

_ I do have things to tell you, but they’re better spoken about in person. I’ll be there soon. _

_ Angeal _

**iv.**

Angeal arrived in Midgar with a pack slung over his back, eyes staring at the city in mild surprise. There was some sort of half-formed dish and buildings taller than he’d ever seen before. He glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand, clutched tightly to the point that it crumpled and was almost illegible. It had a single address listed. Angeal hoped he could figure out how to navigate Midgar enough to find it.

“Upper Plate?” Angeal murmured to himself, a little confused. “That half-formed dish thing?” He glanced back at the dish. He sighed and started walking. It couldn’t be too hard to find, could it? His thoughts swam as he moved, twisting on the streets and trying to find his way in this strange city.

Angeal hadn’t seen Genesis for nearly three years now. They’d only been corresponding with letters for two. Genesis spent the first year in a snit that Angeal hadn’t met up with him like they’d promised when they’d first planned to run off to Midgar together. Mother, knowledgeable and knowing that she was, locked Angeal up in his room in order to stop him from going. Angeal still hadn’t quite forgiven her for that.

Now, though, he was here. Fourteen, sack on his back, and paper clasped in his hand. He had no idea where he was going, just that he’d find where Genesis lived if it killed him. There was much the two of them had to talk about, and there were so many differences that they’d have to face.

Angeal tightened his hand around his sack and pressed his lips thin. He wondered how Genesis would react to the changes, like he’d wondered once how Genesis would respond to puberty back when he was ten. He narrowed his eyes and glanced down at the paper again, shoving the thoughts back. He glanced back up.

Midgar was _huge._

He did find Genesis’ place eventually, though he ran into Sephiroth first. Literally.

** v. **

Angeal stood in Genesis’ living room. His leg bounced nervously as Genesis stared, open mouthed. He knew the changes would be surprising, but then he hadn’t expected the changes in Genesis either. The skinny boy he remembered and turned into a tall lanky teenager with a penchant for red and leather. There was an earring Angeal didn’t remember Genesis having, and what looked like mascara but then, Genesis had always liked eyeliner when they were kids.

It took a moment longer before Genesis actually got the ability to shut his mouth with a loud click. He made some sort of noise in the back of his throat, a sound of some kind, and then quickly stepped over to Angeal. The first thing Genesis did was press his palms flat against Angeal’s chest, face almost comical.

“There’s no _squish_ ,” Genesis said. He tried to squeeze and Angeal dropped his sack and snorted.

“Of course not,” he said. “That’s what binding _does_.”

Genesis made a sound, a sort of disappointed half-groan. “I _liked_ them. They were like warm, comfy pillows that had a heart beat.”

“They’re still _there_ ,” Angeal grumbled. He glanced down to Genesis’ hand. “Are you going to move that.”

Genesis glanced down, then grinned back at Angeal.

“No.”

Angeal stared at him for a second, then sighed. He ran his hand through his hair and muttered, “Ass.”


End file.
